Maybe
by Anidori-Kiladra
Summary: Zeke finally asks Sharpay out on a Friday, with a bag of cookies.


Zeke finally asks Sharpay out on the first Friday in October. She's standing at her locker, applying lip gloss before heading out to her car, when he shoves a bag of cookies in her face and runs away.

And she takes them because, really, the boy can bake better than he has any right to, being a basketball player and all.

It isn't until she gets home that Sharpay realizes there's a note attached to the outside of the bag.

"Sharpay," it reads. "I really like you. Will you be my girlfriend?"

And Sharpay rolls her eyes, both at the utter third grade-ness of the whole thing and also because she's seen this coming since as far back as last winter, and definitely since Lava Springs. She'd known it was a bad idea to let him hold her hand.

Munching an oatmeal-chocolate-chip cookie before passing the bag off to Ryan (she has to watch her calorie intake, after all), Sharpay considers the proposition. Certainly the queen bee should have a boyfriend, and she's finally given up on Troy, she tells herself firmly…mostly. He and Gabriella finally seem to have worked out their problems and can often be seen at lunch (sometimes at her very own table!) throwing grapes into each other's mouths and giggling and holding hands. Sickening.

And besides, Zeke's a good enough looking guy, and mother would be proud of her for being "diverse."

So Sharpay says yes, at Zeke's locker the next day, and watches the smile consume his face.

All in all, it's not a bad arrangement. Sharpay doesn't really _like_ Zeke, not like that, and she suspects that he knows this, but she's always wanted to be the center of attention, always striven to be a star. And Zeke thinks the sun rises and sets on her. She can see the adoration in his eyes whenever he brings her a new offering of vanilla swirl cupcakes or crème brule.

And in the end, Sharpay muses, isn't it better to be loved than to love? Love is a wasted emotion, when now bestowed upon her.

But still, after three weeks and seven ever-fumbling kisses, Sharpay thinks it's time to end the relationship. So she waits until he comes by her locker at the end of the day to walk her to her car. Fitting, she thinks, that it should end here, where it all began.

"So Sharpay," Zeke says, spinning a basketball on his finger. "I've got practice till five, but after that I was hoping we could catch a movie?" And he looks so bright, so hopeful, that she's almost sorry she has to do this to him. Almost.

"No, I don't think so, Zeke." She slams her locker closed and faces him. "This," she waves one finger, indicating the two of them, "is over."

She means to turn on her heel and march away in typical Sharpay style, but something stops her. Maybe it's the way Zeke's basketball stops spinning and falls to the floor, only stopping when in rolls under the drinking fountain. Maybe it's the way his face falls, all the light vanishing at once.

"Sharpay," he starts, then trails off.

"What?" she snaps.

"Nothing," he sighs. "It's just, I should have seen it coming. I mean, I knew you weren't emotionally invested in this relationship at all. I—Sharpay, I sat in on almost all your rehearsals for the fall show, but you never even came to see one of my games. I baked you stuff, and your _brother_ was always the one thanking me. You know," he continues, straightening. "Maybe it's better this way. Maybe I'm better off. I'll see you around Sharpay."

And with that, he swings his bag up higher on his shoulder and turns to go.

Sharpay watches him walk away from her, fingers scrabbling frantically at her purse, and she doesn't understand why. No one walks away from Sharpay Evans. NO one is ever _better off_ without Sharpay Evans.

And more than that, she doesn't understand the strange ache that starts in her chest and makes its way up to her collarbone. She rubs at the spot, but it doesn't go away.

Maybe it's because she wants to have the last word. Or maybe it's because of the way he scuffs his shoes along the tile, making that soft shuffing noise that seems to accuse her, and she just wants it to stop. Maybe it's the way he says things, things like "emotionally invested," that she's never another guy say before, not even Ryan. Or maybe, maybe it's because there's some tiny part of her, a part she didn't even realize existed before now, that likes Zeke, really likes him, in a way totally different than the way she likes Troy or anyone else.

But for whatever reason, Sharpay calls out, "Wait!"

He turns, and she runs towards him, slipping in her too-high silver heels on some fallen papers. She falls in an undignified heap at his feet.

But he helps her up anyways, ever the gentleman even though she just broke his heart.

He tries to drop her hand once she's standing again, but she won't let him.

"Zeke, wait," she says again. "I didn't mean that, what I said just now. I say things I don't mean all the time and I'm really trying to stop that, but—"

She stops talking when he softly runs his thumb down her cheek. "Sharpay," he says, an inexplicably gentle smile on his face. "What are you trying to say?"

Sharpay takes a deep breath and realizes that she doesn't know what she wants to say at all. It was only that she needed him to stay, she needed to say _something_ to get him to stay.

Or maybe she wants to say too much. It all comes out in a rush. "I was wrong—I like you—I took advantage—when's your next game?"

"Tomorrow," he says, and somehow this seems to answer not just that one question, but all her doubts.

She smiles. "I'll be there."

And once again, Zeke's smile is a burst of sunlight. "Great," he says, walking backward, still looking at her, still smiling, till he turns the corner. She can hear the shuffing of his shoes turn to squeaking as begins running, no doubt fearing the wrath of Coach Bolton if he's late.

Sharpay is left standing alone in the hallway with a piece of paper still sticking to the bottom of her shoe, too happy to care that, once again, she didn't get the last word.

**A/N:** I swear I didn't mean to write a Zeke/Sharpay. I have never read a Zeke/Sharpay. I am not even sure I like Sharpay. But I was watching High School Musical 2 again, and Lady Inspiration struck and this was the result. As always, reviews are love.


End file.
